Bare Knuckles and Broken Noses
by OnTheWildside
Summary: The story of how Connor met Aislinn. Set in between the movies, probably about five or six years after the twins ended up in Ireland. Mainly just a lot of fluff for back-story purposes. Companion to the Angels and Saints Arc. Rated M for language and smut.
1. Bare Knuckles and Broken Noses

**After starting ****_Usque Ad Mortem_****, I'm kind of obsessed with Aislinn. I decided it was imperative to explain how she and Connor met, and this is what I came up with. Just some harmless fluff! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"I'm fuckin' bored." Connor sighed from atop his horse.

"What did ye want ta do?" Murph asked, rolling himself a cigarette and lighting it with expert skill.

"I don't know, but if I don't leave this fuckin' farm soon, I'll go insane." He said.

The boys couldn't deny that the lack of action in their lives was beginning to get to them. When they first left Boston, they ended up on this farm with their Da, but at nights they would go out and drink, true Irishman style. After a few months, even that got dull.

The MacManus twins had gone from being cold, hardened killers surrounded by Mafiosos and shrouded in drama to slinking silently over the moors and watching sheep from a top horses for hours on end, occasionally helping them give birth or shearing them in the summer. The deadening pace of this life had become too routine. Even Noah had noticed his boys had gotten that mischievous gleam in their eyes in the recent months. They longed for something, anything to save them from the dullness.

"Let's go out." Connor rolled himself his own cigarette and lit it, soon letting out plumes of smoke in time with his brother.

The lack of interest in their own lives for the past few years was not helping Murphy's thoughts from wandering to Rebecca. He couldn't help but end up there, even after all of these years. "Aye." He muttered in response.

That night, the boys found themselves in the center of Kenmare at a pub called Madra Dubh.

"The black dog?" Murphy muttered. "They couldn't come up with a better fuckin' name?" He shook his head, brushing his long hair back from his face.

Connor rolled his eyes at his twin and entered the building anyway.

Connor found a seat at the bar while Murphy burst in the door, showing off and spotting a friend by the pool tables. A few minutes passed before Murphy sat beside his brother at the bar. They seemed busy, it being a Friday night, and Connor still hadn't been able to order.

"Oy, over 'ere!" Connor yelled at the guy behind the bar. He kind of shrugged Connor off and seconds later this luscious brunette girl with long, lean legs, clearly visible in her short skirt, and full sleeves of tattoos, came in the door and walked back behind the bar.

"Tá brón orainn tá mé déanach, Seamus." She said, quickly discarding her things behind the bar and grabbing a black apron, tying it around her waistline.

"Sábháil é! Faigh a bheith ag obair!" The large man behind the bar yelled, trying to keep up with drink orders.

As soon as he saw her, Connor knew he had to talk to her, learn her name, get to know her.

"An féidir liom cabhrú leat?" She asked him.

"Two whiskeys." He smirked. "And yer phone number."

"Easy tiger. I just got 'ere. Let's just start with the whiskey."

"What about a name?"

"Aislinn." She smirked, pulling out two glasses and pouring two generous glasses of whiskey.

"Connor." He smiled, taking a sip from the glass she handed him.

Murphy recognized the look on his brother's face. As soon as he grabbed his glass, he rolled his eyes and walked off to play pool with the guys he spoke with earlier.

"That was me brudder, Murphy." He explained, leaning forward on his elbows.

Another guy called to Aislinn from the opposite end of the bar and she excused herself. Connor couldn't help but watch her make her way across the bar. He hummed quietly to himself, shaking his head and taking another sip from his glass.

They hung around most of the night, Connor trying to make casual conversation with Aislinn and Murphy winning bets left and right with his new friends.

"I'm about to get off." Aislinn announced.

"Did ye 'ave plans, then?" Connor asked, a little let down.

"Actually, I was wonderin' if yew boys liked violence?"

"Violence?" Murphy looked boyishly excited. "We love violence, don't we, Conn?"

"Aye, what did ye 'ave in mind?"

"I could show ye." She smiled, taking off her apron and grabbing her tips from the night. "Let's go."

The boys followed her to a seemingly abandoned warehouse a few blocks away. When they entered, they realized exactly what they had walked into: an underground bare-knuckle boxing ring.

They had walked in mid-fight. A broad, burly man was punching at air as a thinner, scrawnier man weaved in and out of his punches. He was wearing him out quickly. Quick enough for him to lunge at him around the middle and knock him clean to the ground. A few well placed hits and the fight was over.

"Where do I sign up?" Connor exclaimed.

"Conn, don't cha think maybe -" Murphy began.

Connor cut him off by saying "This is it, Murph! Don't ye see? This is the excitement I've been waitin' for!"

"Are ye serious?" Aislinn asked. "Most people train fer months fer these fights."

"Oh, I 'ave been, lass. Believe me."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn ye." She sighed and took him to the guys in charge. They kind of laughed him off but said they could fit him in because, unfortunately, one of the guys who was supposed to fight again had suffered one too many kicks to the head and had to be rushed to the hospital. "Circumstance of the profession." He explained.

Connor was going to fight last. He didn't warm up, didn't really do anything but stare at Murphy.

His brother had found a place in the shadows on the far side of the ring, watching closely as one-by-one, fighters stepped into the ring and each round, one was claimed a victor and one ended up with near fatal injuries. The entire time he couldn't help but wonder what they were doing there. Aislinn hadn't exactly explained why she was here, why she brought them there. He also wondered what demons his twin was fighting that could make him want to fist fight strangers in the middle of this darkened warehouse.

Connor's round came sooner rather than later. They announced the fight like any other, another muscular, burly, bald man stepped into the ring, shirtless. His expression was blank, just as Connor's was when he saw who he was about to fight. When they called his name, he shrugged his shirt off and walked up, looking dumbfounded and awestruck. Words came in small spurts to his ears and he almost missed the first bell.

His opponent took the opportunity and struck Connor quickly, two or three times in the stomach. Connor doubled over and the man was able to bring his knee swiftly into Connor's nose, spraying blood across the mat. From a spectator's perspective, Connor was done for. The lighter twin wasn't going to give in that easily, however. He hooked his arm around the man's shoulder and pulled him forward, linking his arms around the guys upper body and using brute strength and determination, he was able to flip the man over, flat on his back against the mat. Connor ended up on his knees over his opponent, using all of his body weight to hold the man to the floor as he brought his knee up into his chin. The second time the man tried to flip over onto Connor but he couldn't get over on him. The light twin took his fist to the man's face swift and hard and finally the man pounded on the ground signaling the end of the fight. The gentleman that announced the fight lifted Connor's hand to the crowd and there were minimal applause before he walked off to claim his prize money.

Connor was surprised to see his twin waiting for him at the collection desk holding an envelope. "Bet on ye ta win." He merely shrugged. Connor received a similar envelope from the woman at the counter. "Think ye broke yer nose?" Murph asked.

"Feels like it." He murmured. "I'll be right back." He muttered, walking off.

Aislinn ran up and hugged Connor. "That was amazin'! How do ye feel?" She examined his face. "That's definitely broken." She said. "We need to set it."

"Get on with it then."

"I didn't mean me! I meant we should get ye ta a doctor!"

"No need." He shrugged. "Easier ta do it before it swells much more."

"I've only seen this done once." She stuttered.

"I trust ye." Connor pleaded. Aislinn took a deep breath and pinched Connor's nose at the bridge, yanking once to the left and then quickly to the right. It made a loud snapping noise and Connor winced, tears coming to his eyes. "Fuckin' 'ell!"

"Sorry!" She exclaimed.

Murphy came back with a beer in one hand and a wet rag in the other. He handed both to his brother. "'Ere."

"Thanks, brudder." Connor drank heavily from the beer and Aislinn grabbed the rag and started dabbing at the blood on Connor's face.

"Jesus! Ye set 'is nose?" Murphy asked after he got a better look at his twin.

"Lord's name!" Connor muttered. "I asked 'er to."

"Part of the package." Aislinn blushed.

"She wanted me to look m'best when I take 'er out tomorrow night." Connor smirked.

"What was that?" She asked.

Murphy only shook his head and walked off a few feet.

"Ye 'eard me. I'd like ta take ye out, show ye a proper good time. One where I don't shed any blood ta 'ave ta impress ye."

"I work tomorrow."

"Then Sunday?"

"I 'ave church."

"So do I. After, I mean."

"Are ye ever gonna stop?"

"Never." He beamed mischievously.

"Monday. I'm off on Monday."

"Okay then. I'll see ye Monday."

"We should git goin'." Murphy announced.

"I have ta stay." Aislinn said.

"Well then, Monday."

"Monday." She smiled.

* * *

**Translations: **

_Tá brón orainn tá mé déanach_ – Sorry I'm late

_Sábháil é! Faigh a bheith ag obair!_ – Save it! Get to work!

_An féidir liom cabhrú leat?_ – Can I help you?


	2. One Helluva Shot

"It's not much further." Connor chided. "Ye can stop whinin'."

"Ye say that 'cause ye aren't the one wearin' 'eels on cobblestone." She replied.

Connor had showed up late, his usual style. Aislinn hated being kept waiting. He wouldn't tell her where they were going, or if she had dressed appropriately. She hated that, too. So far, Connor MacManus had done nothing but get on her nerves.

The only redeeming factor was the stream of charm and various compliments he seemed to be spouting non-stop. _"Ye look lovely, lass." "Quite the arse on ye." "If yer clothes got any tighter, they'd be non-existent." _

Not that Aislinn was one for flowers and chocolates. Quite the opposite, actually. She valued her independence. She didn't care for being fawned over. There was just something about this MacManus man that made her swoon, though.

"Aye, 'ere we are."

Aislinn looked up at the sign to the shop. "Ice cream? That's the big secret?"

"Don't tell me yer allergic 'er somethin'?"

"No. It's juss – "

"Juss what?"

"I thought ye'd 'ave somethin' more… eventful in mind?"

"The night is young, lass." He smirked.

* * *

"Fanaile?" She repeated.

"What's wrong with vanilla?"

"Nothin'. Juss didn't strike me as such a borin' person." She scoffed.

"Oh, ye 'ave room ta talk. What is this anyway?" He stole a scoop from her dish and made a face at the taste.

"It's pink champagne." She also made a face. "At least it's different. Not borin'."

"I'm borin' now, aye?"

"Aye."

"I'll show ye borin'." He muttered. He grabbed her hand and drug her from the shop, leaving their discarded sweets melting at the table behind them. She practically tripped in her heels as he took her to the town square. It was now dark out, quiet and still for a Monday night.

There was a three-tiered fountain in the center of the square in the cobblestone paved street. Connor bowed and took Aislinn's hand, snaking the other one around her waist and pulled her into his chest, holding her close, his lips grazing her earlobe as he softly sang, spinning her in gentle circles.

_The pale moon was rising above the green mountains,_

_The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;_

_When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,_

_That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee._

_She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,_

_Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;_

_Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,_

_that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee._

Aislinn couldn't help but blush. Ordinarily, under any other circumstances, she would have protested and probably walked away, but something inexplicable held her there in that spot. She started to feel the surge of wetness, a familiar tingle in her nether regions.

"Am I still borin' ye, love? Or should I continue?" He looked to her for guidance.

She responded by gripping the back of his neck and drawing his lips to hers. He deepened the kiss, holding her steady and grazing his tongue along her lower lip. She only answered his beckoning call by parting her lips and allowing him entry. Breathlessly, she pulled back, looking into his eyes. "My place?" She murmured.

"Look who's bein' forward now, miss."

"Is that a no? 'Cause I could walk into one of these bars and probably find a few men who would love to escort me home."

He grimaced and cut his eyes at her. "That won't be necessary. I was only makin' an observation, as it were."

"Well then, come on!" She giggled, grabbing his wrist and practically dragging him the next few blocks to her apartment. At the door, Connor placed a casual hand on her ass as she rummaged through her purse for the keys and made their way into the building.

They raced to the elevator and once inside, Connor pinned Aislinn up to the door and they found a way to pass the time as the metal box made it's way up a few flights to her floor. They practically fell into the hallway when the doors opened.

They managed to stay pulled apart long enough to open the door to her apartment.

"Ye 'ave a nice place." Connor looked around.

"Thanks." She kicked off her heels by the door and walked towards the kitchen. "Want a drink? Got Midleton, Jameson, Fennelleys. Then there's Guinness in the fridge." She explained.

"Ye got a bar back there? Girl after me own 'eart."

"Comes with the territory." She shrugged. "What'll it be?"

Connor snuck up behind her, pushing her into the counter, placing a hand on her hip, digging the pads of his fingers into the soft flesh there. "Jameson's fine." He muttered against her earlobe, his teeth grazing the shell before he dug them in, causing her to moan. She spun around, still holding the bottle, pushing their lips together once more. "Allow me." He breathed against her lips, barely pulling back, and poured the whiskey into the glasses she had already placed on the counter. He took one himself and handed off one to her. "Ta new beginnings?" He offered a toast. She pushed her glass to his, causing a clink, before downing all of the golden liquid in time with the MacManus. They set their glasses aside and Connor grabbed Aislinn's ass through her skirt, kneading at her ass with his fingers before aptly lifting her onto the counter they stood in front off. He positioned himself between her legs, his bulging arousal apparent against the wetness of her thin lace panties. She clawed at his shirt and tugged up, barely breaking contact, just long enough for the cotton to come over his head. "Are ye sure about this?" He muttered, his breathing now labored.

"Aye." She scoffed. "Now hurry up and fuck me."

He moaned at her words and delved back into her lips. She grabbed the nape of his neck, digging her nails into his scalp and entwining her fingers in the tousled hair. Her shirt came off next and she let go of Connor, just long enough to snap her bra off and shrug it off her shoulders. He practically growled at the sight of her exposed nipples, pink and perfectly hardened at the top of her ample bosom. He took no time in taking his breasts in his mouth, causing her to writhe beneath his touch. "Remember when I told ye ye 'ad a nice arse, lass?" She nodded, barely contemplating his words. "Ye've got great tits, too." He took a step back to marvel at her body art. Her arms and stomach were nearly covered in colorful artwork; everything from swallows and anchors, to hearts and roses. Mostly giant, classic pieces in vivid color, but her chest was completely bare. "Yer a work o' art yerself, girl." He leaned back in, kissing down her stomach and dipping his tongue into her navel. Soon, he was faced with the task of removing her skirt. She bucked her hips, allowing him enough time to slip her panties and the skirt to the floor. As soon as she was open to the air, she shivered. Connor ran his thumb up and down her moist slit, passing over her clit at a maddeningly slow pace. She pushed him further, jutting her hips forward. "So wet." He murmured, reaching for the bottle of Jameson. He removed the cap and poured some into her navel, the chill sending shivers through her body once more as it cascaded over her body. He bent down and slurped the liquid from her stomach, licking it clean before he tried it again, this time a little further south. This time, she jumped, bucking her hips and pushing her hot core into his mouth as he took another shot. His tongue passed through her folds, searching out more than just the whiskey this time. "That's a helluva fuckin' shot, lass. Best one I ever 'ad." He glanced up at her, smirking from between her legs.

"That's a lot, comin' from an Irishman." She giggled. He murmured his acknowledgement against her small bundle of nerves, running his tongue over her clit and sucking. As soon as he had begun, he pulled back, getting back to his feet and downing another shot, this time from the bottle, before taking another step back, causing Aislinn to make an exasperated groan.

"No worries, love. That's just not 'ow I want ye." He stated, grabbing his belt and starting to pull it free. It made an arousing clink against the granite countertop just before she heard the telltale rip of a zipper. She glanced at him from between her thighs and moaned as she watched him pull his cock free from his jeans, shoving both them and his boxers down and kicking out of the clothing, discarding his boots in the process. She marveled at his chest, reaching out and running her finger tips through the perfect definition of his abs, all the way down to the happy trail between his hips. He grasped his erection and took a step forward, running the tip against her clit and watching her writhe beneath him before he rammed into her. She gasped at first, but as he delved deeper, it got more pleasant and she began rocking her hips, rolling them against his thrusts as she locked her legs behind him, digging her ankles into his back. His thumb found her clit and he leaned into her, creating a deeper angle of penetration while taking her breasts in his mouth, pulling on her nipples and hitting both of her sweet spots in unison.

"Shit." She moaned. "Connor…Fuck." She purred.

He picked up the pace, swirling his hips and digging into her flesh with his teeth. "Fuck, lass. Come for me. Let me feel ye!"

Her body contorted and she cried out as she lost control, causing Connor to come hot and fast inside of her. Their breathing was jagged, and somehow on time, as he fell to the counter, catching himself on his hands and grabbing the bottle of Jameson and filling the two glasses once more. She leaned up, just enough to empty her glass as Connor rummaged through their clothes to find his cigarettes, lighting one and passing it between the both of them.

This was the start of a beautiful relationship.


End file.
